Wishing For
by Fantasmarific Amalia
Summary: Just a little. She was so close. So close that he could finally kiss her. Oh, how he's been waiting for such a long time for this! Lash's POV of Janitor's Closet.


**Hey everyone! More virtual Lash/Layla ice cream. Teehee. This, my lovely readers, is Lash's POV to my other oneshot, "Janitor's Closet". And yes, this too, came to me while I was typing up my other story. :sigh:**

**And I'd like to say thanks to all the messages I've received about my collection of stories. Made me gush for a while. :D**

**So here it is – Lash's POV. It may sound a bit repeated, but that's only because it's the same as JC, yet in his view. (_Oh, wow, Heidi. You can sooo make your point across._)**

**Anyway. Here!**

Lash grumbled as he watched Speed snigger at a measly little freshman sidekick. The boy in question was stumbling over his untied shoes, hunched over from the weight of his backpack over his shoulder. Rolling his eyes, the taller boy shoved his friend to the side, taking a glance to the hall clock. He didn't actually need to, though, since the bell just rang for passing.

"You can take this one on your own." He muttered, tapping his foot and crossing his arms shortly, just waiting for something good to happen. Speed chortled to himself as he grabbed a hold of the short little boy, dragging him along by his backpack.

"I believe you're a little late for your appointment with Dr. John..." he snickered, the boy's bathroom door opening, just to close momentarily, Lash's fat friend disappearing behind it.

Sighing, Lash took a minute to remember why he was standing there. Waiting. Peering over the heads of the short occupants of the hall, he watched at the far right hand of the long corridor, a redhead smile and grasp hands with her boyfriend. Smirking, he took a step to the next bank of lockers, finding his favorite place to hide. He was going to get her today. He was going to steal her away for just another time.

Leaving the janitor's door open slightly, he waited for the crowd to lessen with each passing moment of time. When he caught sight of her earthy toned clothing, her vibrant red hair, he smirked into the dark storage room, readying his arm.

Grasping her shoulder with a quick grip of his fingers, he tugged her inside. His other hand smacked the door shut behind her, and Lash felt her breath against his neck, and the boy closed his eyes. Placing his hands on her hips, he heard her give an intake of breath before speaking. Quickly he maneuvered their way into the janitor's closet entirely, and smashed her against a wall, her body not completely crashing against it.

"Lash, are we _always_ going to meet like this?" He merely chuckled, thinking that this was what she had asked the last time he did this.

Closer and closer his face began to creep to her own, his breath grazing her cheek, and secretly, he wished that she'd make the first move. She struggled against him, but he merely rolled his brown eyes in the dark.

"You love it, Layla." Moments - seconds after, he felt something smack him in the back of his head.

Knowing the Hippie didn't really contradict herself to full-out violence, he knew she used something to aid her. "Ow, what the hell." He growled, opening his eyes towards her, strength to just smash her against a wall and completely ravish her was filling in them. In some strange universe, Lash didn't really enjoy pain. But we're talking about _this_ universe. Where Lash gets thoroughly turned on by it.

"What the hell." She was heard mocking, her hand covering Lash's. It was a cool feeling - like tranquility, really. With a swift throw of her own fingers, she tried to remove his own from her hips, but failed. "Can I even get to class on time anymore?"

Chuckling quietly to himself, he just knew that she liked this. She liked him. Smirking in the black storage room, his hips collided with hers, and her body fell back and into a stool that was standing just before the wall beside them.

Lash heard her moan in pain as he heard the soft smack of her head hitting the hard wall behind her, making her stumble.

He had hurt her. _Damnit_, he thought, almost growling into the air. _I didn't mean to_. Slowly his hand cradled the back of her head, wishing that in the dark he could see the green of her eyes. Using his fingers, he maneuvered them behind her hair, into her scalp to try and find the smallest bump, the teeniest little swelling growing on her skull. He didn't like the fact that he might have caused her damage.

In the simplest moves, his eyes finally adjusted to the lighting, and he could see her in the faint light.

Just a little. She was so close. So close that he could finally kiss her. Oh, how he's been waiting for such a long time for this!

Stroking his left thumb over her jawbone, he sighed gradually, his eyes closing as his mouth descended onto her neck, the soft skin radiating heat as he rested his lips on it.

She shivered, and then brought her fingers to his chest. Lash thought she'd be giving in soon, but Layla had shoved him a bit, making him fidget before her. Gripping her arms with his hands, he smirked as she stiffened. She couldn't ever move beneath his hold. And with a sick obsession, he smiled. He liked it that way.

"I'm going to be late again." Her nails dug into his shoulder, and he practically moaned into her neck, his body caving slightly, his figure coming back up straight to shove his face into her red hair. He breathed deeply, his mind growing fuzzy as he smelled her wonderful rain-kissed strawberry scent - and he couldn't help but bite just a little bit, just a little taste on her ear. To see if she really tasted how she smelled.

"Who cares, Williams." he murmured, feeling her body practically melt against him. Ahh, this is what he was waiting for, wasn't it? Slowly his mouth was trailing across her jaw, his nose sliding across her pale skin.

"I...I do." Lash snorted, loving the way she was shivering, loving the way she was just giving herself away like this to him. Once more. Her breath was hitting him in the face so heavily, he tried to ignore it, but couldn't help lifting his mouth to lick her top lip. It was torture for both of them. He was desperate to feel her lips upon his. Yet he did his best to ignore the nag in his mind, chuckling over his thoughts. He could get through this. He could.

"Stop it." He heard her growl, and his lips moved slightly so that they hovered above hers, just waiting for her to move to him. When he got to where he wanted to be, he shoved his hand inside the side of her pants, his fingers playing with her string thong. Lash couldn't help but smirk - he liked it better when all he had to do was shimmy her body out of these damned things and cause her to scream his name.

Actually, that happened just last week.

"Stop what." He muttered against her lips, his body enjoying the small torture of this terrible tease. Hearing the warning bell, he expected her to fight him, try to get away. But she was still. Only in a moment did she move, his fingers making circular motions on her arm, feeling the goosebumps begin to rise on her skin. And Lash chuckled again, knowing that he himself was the cause. That he himself had _finally_ reached to her.

It was still, their eyes scanning each other's in the dark, trying to see what the other was planning just by seeping their eyes into their minds. Like they were really a window to the soul. But Lash knew that they both couldn't see the other's eyes.

Layla caught Lash's lips in a strong kiss, the movement of her soft skin brushing against his own was making him moan - or was it the fact that she just bit and tugged down on his mouth? Whatever the cause, he was loving it. With his hand in her hair, he gave her lips an evil smirk, pulling so harshly that she leaned forward, her head rising to the ceiling. Lash couldn't help but take this moment to crash his lips against hers. He had to. It was a given.

Kicking his leg out from whatever was behind the girl, he smashed her against the wall, sure to make note that his hand was to stay where it were in her hair as he had not let her skull bash itself into the wall once more. His chest collided with her own, and Lash felt her hand on his chest, her fingers wrapping around his side. As she released a gasp upon his lips, Lash realized that Layla wasn't suspecting his tongue to slide so smoothly into her mouth, battling it out as their hands reached for anything on the other's body.

Layla moaned loudly into Lash's throat as he rested his hand below her right breast, his thumb right below her clothed nipple. This was the usual spot for where his hands were usually found upon her, and he smirked as he pulled her into him, only to thrust her back against the wall once again. Yet once she hit, she pulled strongly on his hair, causing his face to lean up like hers had done, his lips escaping Layla's. He didn't actually enjoy the break. The moan from his mouth was just a sign of annoyance, right?

"Stop it." Lash mocked low, his arm wrapping around the back of her waist and pulling her close as her teeth marked up his earlobe. Her snickering breath had made him shiver, made him rethink everything he's ever done to her. All those times he's teased her - all those times he had crushed her body against a bank of lockers, all those times he's tugged her into an empty classroom. All that time - he thought that this was just a game he played with her, a game she didn't really want to play considering the fact that she was still with Will Stronghold, _king_ of his sophomore year. Maybe this was real. Maybe this was true.

Whatever this was, Lash didn't really know.

"Stop what?" She whispered into the dark. Lash's arms picked her up with ease, dragging her away to the janitor's door, slamming her with such force that he gave a short fear that the glass on the door might have shattered into a billion pieces. Once they heard the shaking of the floor beneath them from the slam, Lash covered Layla's mouth with his own, _such force_ questioning if Lash really liked the girl or not.

He felt her leg hitch up upon his hip, and he smirked widely as his hand cupped her thigh, helping her grasp a firm grip on his sides. This position was almost the only thing to get their faces equal with each other, and Lash liked that a lot. But he _didn't_ like the fact that she just arched her way away from him, his lips separating from hers. Scowling, he looked up at her closed eyes, her bitten lip as her hands gripped his shoulders. Layla needed to learn a few things on manners. The thought made him smile as he lowered himself closer to her collarbone.

"Oh, now don't _tease_." Lash whispered, his left arm upon her spine as his lips landed upon her skin, his lips massaging her pale, sweet-tasting surface, knowing quite well not to leave any bruising marks - fucking Stronghold would be suspicious. And Lash obviously knew not to be an idiot.

The bell rang in the corridor, and Lash smiled inwardly, an evil but mischievous look upon his face.

He heard her make a noise at the base of her throat, and he tried to avoid the snigger leaving his lips - but failed miserably. Was she really complaining about missing Mad Science?

"I need to leave." Layla whispered softly, her voice reaching his ears, causing him to close his eyes in pleasure. But once his mind comprehended what the hell she murmured into the darkness, he frowned into her neck, his nose back in her hair in disapproval. Slowly his mouth opened, his breath a trail on her skin. Layla gave a shaky sigh as his hands rested against her waist, and moaned a sentence. "I...ooh, Lash, please."

He pouted to himself, wishing that she _couldn't_ leave. Wishing that she would choose to stay with him instead of going to class. Lash was much more fun. He gave her a thrill. Why toss that aside for a stupid class?

"Is it really that important?" he asked, his nose sliding up her neck, across her jawbone, resting gently against the skin below her lips, waiting for her response. He really didn't want her to -

"Mm." The breath she was holding was released, and it drove him crazy as he inhaled. Flashes of their affair flew through his mind as his lips crashed against hers, the feelings he had felt for her over the year - and slowly his grip on her body weakened, setting her down on the ground, their lips not tearing apart. But with a soft brush against her mouth, he knew she noticed how tender he had become - even though Layla began to nibble on his lip - causing him to remove his thoughts, causing him to chuckle. "It really is."

Lash needed to taste her - just another time before she tried to escape him. Sliding his tongue across her mouth, he resisted the urge to moan, resisted the urge to strip her of her clothes and take her right then and there. He's done it all before. "Then why don't you just go, then?" he muttered darkly, ignoring the nagging feeling at the back of his mind as he shoved her head closer to his, their tongues in a war dance inside Layla's mouth.

She pulled back slightly, a bit of a struggle since his hand was gripping her where she stood. "I am." Lash stopped, pulling away to look into her green eyes. It was a bit hard, but he could see the milkiness of her pale nose, the tender skin of her lips. But he just...couldn't see her eyes. "Going." They were just black holes, and Lash wished to just see the speckled green shine of her large orbs, his reflection radiating off them as she stared deeply back at him. He waited, expecting to hear the sound of a hand connecting with a doorknob. Layla found the way out - and he didn't want her to. "Swear."

Lash almost growled at her success. "Then show me." Maybe this would work, he thought, taking her top lip in his mouth and gripping her waist with such a strength he thought that she might have cried out in pain. She reacted. Pulling away, he felt her fingers snatching up to grasp the long strands of his hair, tugging him down to her face. Making them equal again. Yet she did nothing more. What was she trying to do? He thought, his eyes squinting into the darkness to try and find a sign. In the dim light, he heard her place her fingers around the handle, readying herself.

**Damnit.**

Inhaling deeply, he didn't expect her lips to cover his own again, her teeth biting down hard on his lower lip, causing it to bleed strongly. Lash moaned as he felt her sucking it all in, the smirk on her face seeping into his own like a puddle. Gripping tightly once more to her hips, he kept her on the spot, his wish clearly shining through the moans, the silent pleas.

He wanted her to stay. Lash wanted Layla to skip class and stay with him just for one period. But being the 'goodie-goodie' she was born to be, she's never stayed. And it was evident that she knew he was thinking that as well, since she pushed him away slightly. It made him hate who he was.

He watched as her red hair flipped around in a smooth fashion as she opened the door. "S'clear," he heard her whisper. Lash sighed, his eyes closing as his lips touched her shoulder, his last request still hanging in the air. There was still a bit of hope, wasn't there?

Layla shoved his face away, and he was persistent, his fingers curling over hers as they stepped out and into the hallway. Apparently Layla didn't mind the hand in hers, since she began to turn back to him, her cheeks red as she looked to the ground.

Lash scowled after sucking on the remnants of his lip, thinking that all this time, he's been waiting to see her eyes - see what she was thinking. But she was _looking away_. Using a finger to pull her face to him, he watched as her green eyes flickered to his deep brown ones. Somehow, this connection sent a shiver down his spine, but he liked it.

Staring her down, he tried to find the right words to whisper to her. Yet in ways, he couldn't find them. He couldn't physically find words to show or say how he felt. So he whispered the two words that made him wish that he were Stronghold.

"You're late."

Because if he were Stronghold - he wouldn't have to practically beg her to skip with him. He wouldn't have to tug her into a janitor's closet to ravish her. He could have done that just by walking over to her house every day. He wouldn't have had to hide himself.

Sweeping her lips with a kiss Lash felt her hand become weak in his hold, making him wonder what she was really thinking. When he felt the soft skin of her hand caress his shoulder, though, he cradled her cheek as he pressed a bit harder.

Layla knew how to control him. Lash watched in silenced pain the girl take a step back, a smile on her face as she adjusted her shirt in front of him. "I know." He observed her free hand dig into her front pocket, ripping out an old hall pass. He rolled his eyes as she spoke words with a smirk. "But I've got this. You don't."

_You wouldn't need it if you just stayed with me this once_, he thought, seeing her face turn down the hall to look around. Without another word, she turned around fully and began walking away from him; her fingers still in his hand.

Lash gave her last two digits a squeeze of lost hope as she continued on. His muffled laugh filled the halls as he watched her ignore him, his clenching heart beating with a bit of struggle.

"I'll see you in a half hour." He called; remembering the next time he notices her would be before lunch. She gave him a measly little wave as she turned a corner, and he slouched against the wall, his eyes closing.

Lash didn't like love.


End file.
